


One Call

by Mandaloria593



Series: Ehn - Three [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Pre-OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandaloria593/pseuds/Mandaloria593
Summary: Din gets one free call from jail. Somehow, both his boyfriends show up. There's a lot of (in Din's opinion) unnecessary posturing.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Boba Fett/Luke Skywalker
Series: Ehn - Three [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189727
Comments: 24
Kudos: 113





	One Call

“You get one comm call, Mando. Make it count.”

Din was being detained in a New Republic holding station. He’d unfortunately had to suffer the indignity of another traffic stop. But unlike the first time, these X-Wing pilots didn’t let him off with a warning. One of them was an especially officious type. All business. None of that ‘these are trying times’ leeway Din had gotten before on Maldo Kreis. Of course, that time, the good parts of Din’s record—bringing in some of the New Republic’s most wanted—had probably been less determinative of his getting off with a warning than the fact that the _Crest_ had fallen through the planet’s icy layers and come under assault by ice spiders.

In the present, everything about Din’s detention was being done by the book. He wasn’t even cuffed. They’d only asked him to hand over his most obvious weapons—the long rifle, the Darksaber, the bandolier with all its chargers, his vibroblade, and his jetpack. He was directed to a holding cell, which had simple steel bars and a mechanical lock. 

Din was able to keep an eye on Grogu, who was sitting on the marshal’s desk only a few feet away. Din watched as Grogu picked up a wrapper with some kind of candy half-eaten that was left sitting on the desk. Grogu shoved the candy in his mouth. The marshal looked up from his datapad at Grogu and laughed. “Go ahead, buddy. I probably shouldn’t be eating so many sweets myself.”

Din sighed. 

He had to decide what to do with his one free comm call. 

He had a few choices. 

Since he was in a marshal’s office, his first thought was to call Dune. But somehow, she’d fallen off the map. He hadn’t spoken to her in months. Greef said something about a trip out to wild space, which was beyond any standard comm range. And Greef himself had Guild contacts but no sway this far into the Core.

There was Luke, of course. Luke was the reason Din was even _in_ New Republic space. Din was delivering Grogu back after a break from his Jedi training. But Din wasn’t sure what it would say for Din to call him from _jail._ Although he and Luke had gotten closer, and Din trusted him, their relationship was still...new, and Din was loath to upend the favorable impression he’d made by involving Luke in his current predicament. 

Din could also call Boba. Boba had proved himself loyal in a way that still floored Din every time they were together. The two of them had become very close. And unlike the terrifying but exhilarating progression with Luke, with Boba it was like falling into an old routine, as if they’d been in each other’s lives for years. At any rate, Boba had contacts _everywhere._ Surely he could pull some strings to get Din out of this mess. 

Din really didn’t want to call Bo-Katan. She’d probably come, but with her would come more lectures against having _any_ business with the New Republic as well as the extraction of a promise for Din to help her take back Mandalore. Din still hadn’t decided if he was interested in doing that. Mandalore was cursed.

The deputy unlocked Din’s cell and led him over to a holo booth at the far corner of the office. And then the deputy left him there, walking back over to his own desk in another part of the room. Apparently Din was being so cooperative that no one expected him to make a run for it. Of course, having Grogu with him limited his options. Even if Grogu hadn’t been physically here with him, Din wouldn’t want to jeopardize his visits with him by getting on the New Republic’s radar in a bad way. 

Din sat down in the chair in front of the holo projector and drummed his fingers on the console. 

The deputy across the room called out, “If you’ve got someone you wanna call, Mando, make it snappy.”

Alright then. Din sighed and punched in Boba’s code. 

The call rang twice. Din started to worry that Boba wasn’t going to answer. Maybe he was busy. But after the third ring, Boba’s familiar green-and-red-helmeted hologram appeared in front of him. 

“Su cuy’gar, _beryoa.”_

Din cut to the chase. “Boba. I am in a situation, and I need an exit.”

Boba’s helmet tilted. “A situation you can’t blast your way out of?”

“It’s delicate,” Din explained. “I got picked up on an outstanding warrant in New Republic space.”

Boba snorted. Was he _laughing_ at Din?

“But I’ve got the kid with me, and, well, you know…” Din gestured helplessly. Boba knew about Din’s recent dealings with the Jedi and his New Republic allies. Boba thought the whole thing was funny as bantha shit. Din remembered telling Boba about what happened on the imperial cruiser, and Boba couldn’t believe Din hadn’t heard of Luke Skywalker before. Hero of the Rebel Alliance. The last Jedi Knight. Din’s lack of knowledge about the greater political arena was a constant source of amusement for Boba. Din was usually happy to oblige in his humor, but right now, there were more pressing matters.

Boba asked, “How much bail money do you need me to transmit?

Din tipped his helmet down ashamedly. “The deputy won’t release me on bail. Impounded my ship. Says I’ve skipped before.”

“Well, they’re not wrong,” Boba noted. “What do you want me to do then? For that matter, why didn’t you call your Jedi?”

“He’s not _my_ Jedi,” Din protested flimsily. “And I think it’d be awkward to ask him to make this go away. As you’ve made perfectly clear, he’s like the poster boy for the New Republic. Besides, I was only given one call, and I called you. So, can you help me?” 

Boba chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, I can help you. Hang tight. Just do whatever they say, aside from taking off the bucket.”

“Doesn’t seem like that’s gonna be an issue,” Din assured. “They’re following standard protocols for Mandalorian arrestees. Glanced at my chain code, then left me alone. Barely took any of my weapons.”

“I thought you’re detained, not arrested.”

Din shrugged. “What’s the difference, if I can’t leave?”

Boba turned to say something to someone outside of the holo image. Then, he said to Din, “Which station are you on?”

“Tommar Station,” Din answered. He knew it was nowhere near the Outer Rim. Certainly nowhere near Tatooine, where Boba usually was these days. 

Boba pointed a gloved finger at Din. “You owe me.”

Din gave a slight huff. “Only if you get me out of this.”

“Oh, I will,” Boba promised. “Like I said, just park your shiny butt down for a spell. I’m on it.”

“Are you sending a lawyer?” Din wondered. 

“No I am not,” Boba said, and then promptly hung up.

“Boba? Boba?” _Dank farrik._

Din rested his hands on his thighs before pushing the chair back and standing up. The deputy looked over and noticed he was done with his call. The deputy took the crinkly candy wrapper away from Grogu and tossed it in a trash bin as she walked to Din. “Back over here, please,” she directed, guiding Din back to his detention cell. 

Din went without objection and sat down on the threadbare cot. The deputy closed the cell door and locked it.

Grogu started making needy sounds from the deputy’s desk. Din watched the deputy hold out a finger to Grogu, which Grogu grabbed onto tightly. 

“Aren’t you cute?” the deputy said to Grogu. “What are you doing zipping around the cosmos with that Mando, hm?”

Grogu perked his ears and pointed at Din. He cooed demandingly.

The deputy picked Grogu up and approached the cell bars. “This your kid?”

“Yes,” Din answered readily. 

“Does it need anything right now? We’ve still got some datawork to complete on you.”

“He’s fine,” Din said. “But he likes to eat just about anything.”

“Okay.” The deputy peered at Grogu in her arms. “I’ll get him another snack. Something healthier than that candy he swiped from Bricks."

“Thank you,” Din told her. 

The deputy put Grogu back down on the marshal’s desk and left the room. Din noticed the marshall had stepped out, too. He watched as Grogu looked down and then at Din. The desk was at least three times Grogu's height. 

“Don’t do it,” Din advised him. 

Grogu ignored his advice. But at least he didn’t jump off the desk. He crawled backwards onto the chair, and then hopped down to the floor. He toddled over to Din’s cell. 

“Hey, everything’s fine,” Din assured him. 

Grogu cocked his head and looked at Din in confusion.

“There’s some irregularity in my paperwork. It’ll get sorted and we’ll be on our way to get you back to Luke, alright?”

Grogu made a snorting sound and put his hands on the bars. Even his small frame couldn’t wiggle through. 

“Grogu, stop that.”

Grogu stopped wiggling and pinned his big brown eyes on Din. Grogu’s eyes then fell half-closed, and one of his hands stretched out.

The locking mechanism on the detention cell popped open, and the door swung wide, creaking with the sound of metal that needed greasing.

“Grogu!” Din exclaimed, before pulling the door back closed. He didn’t need these people thinking he was trying to escape. “I have to stay here,” he said. 

But Grogu looked at him with a pouting, puzzled expression. He didn’t understand. 

Din sighed, unsure how to explain why they couldn’t just walk out and leave. “Just do whatever that lady says. She went to get you some food. I’m fine.”

Grogu gurgled and flopped into a sitting position. 

Din propped his feet up on the cot and stretched out longways, folding his elbows behind his head. He started counting star clusters in Mando’a. After he got to over eighty, he looked over and saw that Grogu had his eyes closed and curled his fingers, settling into the pose he used to practice his Jedi meditations. “That’s good, Grogu,” Din encouraged him.

Grogu peeked at him through narrow slits, but otherwise ignored him in favor of meditating. His focus was improving already under just a few months of Luke’s tutelage. 

It wasn’t too long until the marshal and deputy returned. The deputy brought food for Grogu, and the smell of it got Grogu to break his trance and toddle over to check out whatever tantalizing grub the deputy had scrounged up for him. 

Din stared up at the unadorned ceiling and rested his eyes. 

The next thing he knew, he was waking up to the blaring of an alarm. The lights went off, throwing the room in total darkness except for flashing orange emergency sublights. 

“That’s the station perimeter alarm!” the marshal shouted. “Let’s go check it out!”

The marshal and deputy dashed out of the room. 

Din stood up in his cell and approached the bars. Were they in danger here? Or was this part of Boba’s plan to get him and Grogu out?

And then he saw a sight that he wouldn’t soon forget. Out of the shadows, two familiar-shaped figures loomed in the darkened doorway. They appeared to be jostling in an attempt to enter at the same time, which seriously undermined the gravitas of their entrance. Over the blare of the alarm, Din could just make out muttering sounds. His two rescuers did not exactly get along. The two figures finally squeezed through the doorway and made their way over to Din. 

Under the flashes of orange a steady blue glow that powered on, Din saw them both clearly. Luke was holding Grogu. Fett was holding a glowing blue lightsaber. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” Luke demanded of Boba.

Boba faced Luke. “I could ask the same thing. What are _you_ doing here?” 

Din looked back and forth between them. _Oh no._

“Din called me for help,” Boba answered smugly.

“Grogu called me for help,” Luke responded, slightly less sure as he glanced at Din. 

Din brought his palms to his helmet, barely restraining himself from sighing again. _Oh right._ Din should have known Grogu would have called out to Luke with the Force. Din might have placed his one comm call, but so had Grogu. 

“Why do you have a lightsaber, Fett?” Luke asked suspiciously.

“Why _don’t_ you have your lightsaber, Skywalker?” Boba retorted.

“Not every occasion calls for a fight,” Luke said placidly enough, but Din detected an acerbic edge to his usually calm demeanor. 

Din knew Boba had hidden all sorts of trophies aboard the _Slave I,_ and when he got it back, they’d been stowed in such secretive compartments carved into the very hull that nothing precious had been disturbed or lost. The small collection of lightsabers was part of what he’d recovered.

“Can you do something about that?” Boba waved his hand in the air, indicating the alarms and flashing lights. 

“Sure.” A look of concentration swept over Luke’s face, and then the alarm stopped and the lights returned to normal brightness.

“Can one of you please get me out of here?” Din said pleadingly. When Boba moved closer to the cell bars with his blue lightsaber, and Luke’s green one hummed to life beside it, Din clarified, “….legally? I don’t want to cause any trouble for Grogu.”

Both men powered down their sabers but continued glaring at one another. 

“Fett, I can handle this,” Luke started to say.

At that instant, the deputy ran back into the room. She took in the two newcomers and held up her badge like a shield. “What’s going on here?”

Luke stepped forward. “I’m Jedi Knight Luke--”

“Skywalker!” the deputy finished for him. “Of course! I’d recognize you anywhere from the holos. Anyone would!”

Boba chuckled under his breath, tossing a nod of his helmet towards Din. Din rolled his eyes. _Yeah, yeah._ _Everyone_ knew who Luke Skywalker was _except Din._ Well, Din knew him _now._

Luke smiled and said confidently, “I’m here for the Mandalorian you picked up.”

“That would be fine, Master Jedi!” the deputy declared.

Din was impressed. Apparently the Jedi were above the law. Good to know.

“But,” the deputy continued, “I was just coming to release him.” She held up a datapad. “Just got word that there was a mixup in his data file. He’s clean. Whatever had happened before was expunged. He’s free to go.” To emphasize her point, the deputy walked over to Din’s cell and undid the lock, letting the door swing open. 

Din’s eyebrows went up behind his visor. He threw a look towards Boba. “Was that you?” he whispered as he stepped out from the cell. 

“I happen to know the best hacker in the sector,” Boba whispered back. 

“Of course you do,” Din murmured. 

Boba added, “They back-dated everything, so your entire record should be clear.”

The deputy continued. “Is letting him go alright, Master Jedi? If you need me to remand his custody to you, I suppose I can, but...”

Luke stroked his chin. “Oh no, releasing him is...great actually.”

“Did you know,” the deputy added, “that this Mando’s most recent entry is that he helped bring in Moff Gideon?” She turned to Din. “That’s amazing. You’re a hero!”

“Uh, thanks,” Din acknowledged.

“Just sign here, please,” the deputy requested, handing Din a stylus and presenting him a datapad. Din signed, acknowledging his formal release. She took the datapad back. “I’ll go get your things,” she said and walked away, leaving Din alone with Grogu, Luke, and Boba. 

Luke held Grogu out to Din. Din accepted him gladly, and Grogu cooed as he snuggled into the crook of Din’s arm. 

“Thank you for coming,” Din said. He looked between Luke and Boba. “Both of you.”

Luke and Boba both nodded, but the awkward tension didn’t dissolve so easily. 

“I guess I’ll say goodbye to Grogu and send him with you,” Din said to Luke. 

“You’re already out this far,” Luke said, hooking his lightsaber hilt to his belt. “Why don’t you just bring him all the way as planned and help him get settled.” He looked down at the floor then back up to Din. “I hate when you rush off. You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Oh.” Din stood there, just holding Grogu and staring at the subdued Jedi.

Boba made a gruff sound at his other side. 

“What?” Din asked. 

“Oh nothing,” Boba said glibly. “Just wondering how long until you buy a stuffy studio around here, saying you need to be closer to the _kid.”_

“That’s a good idea,” Luke piped up.

Din bit his lip. Unlike Luke, he’d picked up Boba’s implication that ‘the kid’ he was referring to didn’t necessarily mean Grogu. “No, no,” he said lamely. “That’s...no.” 

“I suppose Tatooine isn’t _that_ far,” Boba mused.

Luke inquired curiously, “Is that where you’ve been staying mostly, Din?”

Din cleared his throat. “Sometimes. Boba took things over now so--”

“Oh I _heard,”_ Luke interjected. “You have a place on Yavin anytime too, you know. It’s certainly more picturesque than an old Hutt den. Smells nicer, too.”

“Thanks,” Din managed to say. He was still feeling off kilter. Two rescuers. Two places to stay. Two...companions. Two people who were set on one-upping each other as they tried to do right by Din. It was overwhelming. “You’re both very generous. And I appreciate you both coming here.” Grogu was pawing at his helmet. “I think Grogu is saying it’s time to go.”

“Yeah, let’s blow this joint,” Boba agreed, giving an exaggerated pat to an oversized detonator on his belt. 

Din and Luke both sharply turned to him. 

“I meant _leave,_ kriff, can’t either of you take a joke?”

Luke replied, “Can’t you go anywhere without threatening wanton destruction?”

“Wanton?” Boba repeated. To Din it sounded like Boba was mere seconds away from drawing his gaffi stick. 

But surely Luke wouldn’t rise to the bait, right? He was a Jedi. They were supposed to be cool and collected, not easily provoked. But the glint in Luke’s eyes made Din suspect none of that Jedi stuff would stop Luke from being drawn into an all-out brawl with Boba.

Din just sighed heavily. 

If only they could get along. Keeping up with them separately was getting exhausting. 

As they walked across the office, the deputy returned with an armful of Din’s weapons. Din passed Grogu back to Luke and took all of his weapons in his hands in a big pile. But that left his arms too full to actually situate himself. 

After they stepped out of the office and exited onto the landing platform, Boba plucked the bandolier out of Din’s hand and held Din’s helmet gently to guide the bandolier over his head. As Din let Boba help arrange it over his chest, Luke was snatching the Darksaber and jetpack out from the pile in his arms. He heard the snap of the jetpack into place on his back. It jostled him forward towards Boba, who was affixing the chargers back onto the front of his bandolier. And then Din was spun sideways as Luke’s hands splayed around his waist, one hand dipping down to clip the Darksaber hilt to his belt. At the same time, on Din’s other side, his arm was lifted up so that Boba could slip the vibroblade safely into its vambrace sheath.

Din suffered in silence as he was pushed and pulled between them like massiffs fighting over a piece of bantha steak. Or two children fighting over a preferred toy.

He should probably say something. 

But it was already done, and both Boba and Luke were stepping back. Din couldn’t see Boba’s expression beneath his helmet, but he could see Luke’s face, and it was...appraising. He’d seen that look before. It always made him feel self-conscious, like Luke’s gaze was searing straight through his visor. With Luke’s Jedi powers, it almost certainly _was._ Even when Din had his helmet on around him, the Jedi could read him easily. Din still wore his helmet most of the time, especially with strangers, but he’d taken it off frequently both with Boba and with Luke. After Morak, it felt empowering to choose whom to reveal his face to now. 

When Luke kept studying him, Din finally prompted, “What?” 

“Nothing,” Luke demurred. 

Boba huffed. “Not all of us can walk around with just a lightsaber in our pocket and think we’re ready to face any and every danger out there in the universe.”

Did Boba think Luke was critical of Din’s carrying so many weapons? The truth was rather the opposite, but Din couldn’t say that either. Instead, he interrupted with a raised hand, “That’s not what he meant.” 

“Oh? Then what did he mean with that judgmental stare?”

“I’m not judging him,” Luke replied for himself. 

“You Jedi judge everyone,” Boba said sourly. “You think everyone’s beneath you.”

“That’s hardly fair,” Luke objected. Before Din could voice his agreement and smooth things over, Luke accused, “You’re the haughty one. You’re the great Boba Fett. The hunter who never misses his mark. The guy who survives everything. The one with no qualms on disintegrating people or putting them in untested mining carbonite.”

Boba shifted into an aggressive stance, leaning towards Luke and pointing a finger at him. “I’m not the one who put Solo in that carbonite. Your _father_ did that.”

Luke spluttered.

Din squeezed his eyes shut as if he could _will_ their bickering away. 

But when Grogu grabbed onto Boba’s finger and tried to nibble on it like candy, Boba eased back and straightened his shoulders, though they were still held rigidly. He said blithely, “I thought I was finally free of Skywalker drama.” He tilted his helmet at a steep angle towards Din, obviously blaming Din for his continued Skywalker drama. 

Din finally spoke up. “You’re a grown man and Mandalorian,” he said to Boba. “And you,” he said to Luke, “You’re a Jedi. I expect better of both of you.”

Both men’s postures deflated, chastened.

Taller than both of them, Din put one hand on each of their shoulders, carefully drawing them nearer to say, “You’re both very important to me. I just wish you could see the good in each other.“

“Ha,” Boba sniffed. 

Din stepped back and crossed his arms. “Luke, didn’t you say that the Force moves through everyone? I know you both think I’m completely ignorant about everything,” and both Luke and Boba made sounds of protest, “but surely the fact that I’m close with both of you would suggest there’s something there right? Something about each of you that is...special?” Din then lost his nerve. He took Grogu out of Luke’s hands in order to hide his aborted attempt to explain himself in lieu of cuddling his son. “Maybe I really don’t know anything,” he conceded.

But Boba exhaled in a deep, long-suffering sigh. “Well, I know I’m _not_ special. I have years of proof to the contrary. In fact, I’m quite sure the Force hates me.”

Luke’s lips broke into a grin. “I could check for you.”

“Oh sure, you’re gonna read my palm and tell me my _aura_ is off, you mystic--”

Boba’s words were cut off by Luke’s sudden advance into Boba’s space. Luke’s bare hand darted out towards Boba’s neck, just below his helmet. 

Boba tried to dodge him, and Din yelped, “Luke! That’s rude!” Boba might not observe the sanctity of the helmet, but it was still unbearably impolite to seek to get under a Mandalorian’s armor.

But Luke has already insinuated his hand between Boba’s helmet and his neck cowl, making skin to skin contact. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he was clearly _searching_ the nebulous energy of the Force for something. 

Boba had frozen under his touch. Din was holding his arm, grounding him.

“Luke,” Din tried. “Boba?”

Neither man responded. 

Just as suddenly as he’d thrown himself at Boba, Luke jumped back, startled. His face was turned down, but the faint pink tinge to his cheeks was telling. 

Boba’s breaths were heavy under Din’s hand. “Well, Jedi?” Boba sneered.

“The Force doesn’t hate you,” Luke said mildly. It was said so quietly under his breath that Din barely heard him. 

Evidently it was the same for Boba, who said, “What was that, Skywalker?”

Luke looked up, face flushed. “I said, the Force doesn’t _hate_ you. Far from it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Boba demanded.

Din wanted to know, too.

But then Boba added, “My first experiences with Jedi taught me otherwise.”

Luke’s eyes flicked to Grogu and then returned to the green and red helmet. “The Jedi don’t _own_ the Force, Fett. It moves through everyone. Anyone can be...graced by it.”

“And is that what you think about me? That I’m graced by the Force?” Boba snorted. “Tell that to all the close scrapes I’ve had. I should be dead a hundred times over.”

“Exactly,” Luke said softly. “But here you are.”

“Here I am.”

Din was confused, but Luke offered no further explanation. And Boba himself seemed uninterested in pressing the matter further. _Din_ was interested in hearing what Luke felt when he connected with Boba, especially because whatever it was seemed to have a bigger impact on the Jedi than Boba was realizing. Luke was swaying slightly into Boba’s gravity, not having stepped back as far as they had been before. And that _blush..._ Din knew that blush. Luke _liked_ whatever he saw inside Boba’s head. Liked it enough to be embarrassed about it.

Din was struck with an absolutely crazy idea. 

A very crazy, very _appealing_ idea. 

Clearly, trying to keep Luke and Boba as separate parts of his life wasn’t working. Things were getting too serious with each of them. And they kept inevitably clashing. What Din needed was a catalyst to get them together. And he’d just been handed one on a silver platter. But how to go about it? How to encourage it without it blowing up in his face like one of the thermal detonators on Boba’s belt? 

Given whatever had just passed between the two men, Luke was the obvious place to start. 

“Come on,” he said to both of them, “Let’s go make sure my ship wasn’t ransacked on the impound lot.”

“Yeah,” Boba said as they fell in step with him, “If they find spice in there, I won’t be able to finesse _that_ in their records.”

Luke asked behind them, “Why would you have spice aboard, Din?”

“None of your business, Jedi,” Boba said cryptically. 

Din pulled Luke in stride with him by the elbow. “There’s no spice on my ship. He’s just messing with you.” Din couldn’t resist brushing his fingers over the crease in Luke’s brow. “Stop _letting_ him.”

Din’s arm fell, and Luke pushed his bangs out his face, though the hair fell back into place in the same spot. “Fine.”

Din’s new ship was sitting unmolested in the impound lot. Once inside, Din put Grogu down and removed his helmet before checking out the cockpit. When he returned, Luke and Boba were both lingering in the cargo hold. Boba was leaning against the hull, making hand signs at Grogu, who was responding by trying to approximate the signs back and happily clapping his hands together. Luke was standing still as a pillar, hands tucked into his robes, watching Boba and Grogu.

Din approached Luke and put his hand on his shoulder. “Boba is good with him. He’s teaching him common Mando’a signs.”

“I can see that.”

Din smiled. “Yes, Jedi are very observant, aren’t they?”

Luke turned to him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, too. _“This one_ can be. Sometimes.” And then Luke said under his breath, “You two are really close. I knew that, but it’s different seeing it.”

Din knew Luke didn’t mean Grogu. “Yes,” he said simply. “My curiosity is killing me about what you saw in his head though.”

Color rose in Luke’s cheeks again. “Mm, I bet it is.”

Din’s frustration at Luke’s reticence was minor compared to the glee at perceiving Luke’s newfound consideration of the green-helmeted Mandalorian. “He has a good kar’ta, a good heart,” Din said. “He’s changed a lot, too, from when you two had your little skirmish.”

Luke pursed his lips. “He’s an intriguing individual.”

Din raised his eyebrows and rubbed the back of Luke’s neck.

Luke batted his hand away. “What are you on about, hm?”

“Nothing,” Din said innocently. “Just, you should know...he doesn’t hate you as much as you think he does. He actually respects you. He wouldn’t bother bickering with you if he didn’t think you were worth bickering with.”

“I know that,” Luke said, eyes somewhat glassy, which Din had learned meant he was stretching out his senses with the Force. 

Din watched as Boba’s cape unhooked itself and flew in an arc of swirling fabric towards Grogu. It wrapped him up like a blurrg in a blanket. Grogu cooed in fun, warbled cries. He let himself fall trustingly into the folds of the fabric. 

Luke commented softly to Din, “He doesn’t trust me though.”

“Well, maybe he’d trust you more if you didn’t use the Force to mess with him.”

But despite Luke’s Force antics, Boba didn’t look as uncomfortable as Din had feared. His posture was still relaxed, one foot hooked over the other. Din was surprised when Boba undid the latches of his helmet and removed it, placing it next to Din’s on the table. Doing so put Boba next to Luke, almost touching.

The three of them watched as Grogu’s big green ears peeked out from the mound of fabric in which he’d been buried. The rest of him shortly followed, and he cocked his head, smiling at them. Din’s heart melted a little more. 

Din leaned behind Luke in order to meet Boba’s eyes and raise his eyebrows at him coaxingly. Boba rolled his eyes, but did reach out and place a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “As Jedis go, you’re not terrible, Skywalker.”

Luke chuckled. “Call me Luke.”

"Luke, then."

Din liked the way the name sounded on Boba's tongue.

Between Grogu’s unbridled joy and the tentative olive branch being offered between his two companions, Din’s mood soared. He wanted to wrap all of them in his arms and hide them from the rest of the universe, keeping their happiness safe and private for clan eyes only. 

Din leaned his head on Luke’s shoulder, and extended his hand behind Luke to entwine with Boba’s. 

As they watched Grogu continue to play, Boba suddenly said, “Please tell me Bo-Katan isn’t a ‘special friend’ of yours, too.”

Din grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> Interested in a sequel? Let me know!


End file.
